


Under Your Command

by KaoticLoki



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Bam Chika Wow Wow, Drinking, F/M, Gen, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I love this pairing, Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaoticLoki/pseuds/KaoticLoki
Summary: Loki and Valkyrie have a late night chat and some drinks. One things leads to another and...





	Under Your Command

_**Song:** _ _**["Because the Night" - Garbage](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOmKGjy-Ct0) ** _

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It had become her nightly ritual, not that she was proud of it. Valkyrie really couldn’t think of anything of which she was proud anymore. Well, returning to Asgard to defend the realm at Thor’s side would have made the list.  Other than that, her life was a vortex of booze and regret. So, here she sat, on a crate in the cargo hold of the Grandmaster’s stolen ship, drinking herself into yet another stupor while the remainder of Asgard licked their wounds. 

  


“So,  _ this _ is where you disappear to night after night?” 

  


Loki. The insufferable princeling with a knack for mischief and a tongue sharper than her dragon fang. Even with her already doubling vision, she could make him out, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He was no longer in his leathers, but in soft black pants with a green wrap tunic and was, surprisingly, barefoot. At least someone was making themselves at home on this vessel. She truly was not in the mood to entertain his ego this night. “Beg pardon,  _ highness.  _ I’m in no mood for conversation.” 

  


“But I am and Thor is dull.” He shrugged and pushed away from his perch. The trickster climbed onto the neighboring two stacked crates and reached to pluck the bottle from her hand, ignoring her protests. “What is tonight’s beverage of choice?” He examined the bottle, allowing his eyes to roam up and inspect her glare, and then handed it back. “Blackberry wine? You’ll never gain satisfaction from something so sapless.”

  


“How about I worry about what I drink and you go pretend to care about someone other than yourself, Lackey?” Valkyrie sneered and tipped the bottle to her lips again. 

  


Loki feigned insult. “You’ve got me all wrong, Val.” She granted him a disapproving scowl. “I care a great deal.” He scooted forward on the crate to drop his long legs down, planting his feet beside her. She kept her gaze locked on the stars outside the porthole even when she felt his eyes bearing down on her, willing her to look at him. “What about you?” Peripherally, she could see him move to drape his arms across his knees.

  


“What  _ about  _ me?”

  


“Everything. Anything.” He shrugged. “You knew the AllFather before he was the man I knew...The man I hated.” He added the last part as if it were simply an afterthought, no real emotion behind it. Valkyrie wondered if he had chosen the right word, but decided to leave it be. “Surely there are tales of your time spent protecting the throne.”

  


“Didn’t see enough when you trespassed into my memories?” 

  


Loki frowned, but said nothing for a few minutes. He joined her in watching specks of light pass outside the small glass. “It was truly nothing personal.” He finally said quietly. Valkyrie’s head whipped to face him, mouth open to retort while she clenched a fist. How  _ dare _ he make such an intrusion sound like he had simply picked the lock on her front door? He had violated the darkest parts of her mind for his own gain and seemed to enjoy it, the bastard. “I have never been one to hesitate or consider others when I need something... and I needed you to remember.”

  


“ _ Why _ ?” She hissed, her grip tightening on the bottle. 

  


“Honestly? I was just trying to avoid your blade finding my jugular.” Valkyrie’s hand wandered to the hilt of her dragon fang and gripped it tightly. “But…” Oh, this had better be good. “Then I felt all that pain, the guilt. I felt your rage… and it was… achingly familiar.” He dropped his eyes to stare at his hands, one massaging the other as if it hurt. “I see why you tried to forget.” 

  


Was he trying to apologize? She released her blade and continued to study his downcast face. When the realization hit, she felt a twinge of sympathy for the young god. He was just as uncomfortable on this vessel as she, if not moreso. He was a traitor, a trickster. He would be praised in public while harsh whispers fell from the people’s lips when his back was turned. She was a traitor in her own way. She had laid prone amongst the corpses of her sisters, abandoned her honor and duty, and she had fled to a life of scrapping and hiding. In a way, she and Loki were similar. Perhaps it wasn’t a mutual path to redemption but at least a method of making peace with the ghosts of their pasts. She could respect that. 

  


Setting the wine aside, she forced herself to her feet, staggering slightly. The silence between them remained as she disappeared behind a large stack of crates. Loki began to think she had grown tired of his company and perhaps she had left. From the other side of the room, he heard the distinct splintering of one of the wooden crates and, seconds later, Valkyrie was limping back with a bottle in each hand and a piece of wood still wrapped around her ankle. Classy. 

  


“There are easier ways to open crates.” He raised an eyebrow as she offered one of the bottles with a shrug.

  


“I’m impatient.” She smirked, giving the offered bottle a shake to draw his attention back to it. “Take it. If you’re going to keep me company, you’ll need to keep up.”

  


“I doubt that even the likes of my brother could best your alcohol tolerance.” 

  


Loki accepted and eyed the bottle as Valkyrie used one of her smaller daggers to rid the cork from her own. She turned the bottle up, ignoring Loki’s stare, and drew several large gulps, hissing when the liquid burned down her throat. The warrioress regarded the bottle with a satisfied smile. 

  


“ _ That’s _ the good stuff.” She looked up just as Loki tossed his own cork aside, a glass materializing in his free hand. “Really?”

  


He shrugged as he filled the glass. “Simply preference, I suppose.” He held up the glass and tipped it toward her before emptying it.

  


And so they drank.

  


And drank.

  


And drank.

  


And for a change of pace, they drank some more.

  


Valkyrie reclined against the stacked crates, ankles crossed and head tilted back to see Loki just above her. He  was lying on his back, an empty glass in the hand that lay on his chest. His long black hair was raining down beside her, so close that some of the wayward strands would sometimes tickle her cheek. “You’re such a lightweight.” She teased with only the slightest of slurs. Loki smiled but never opened his eyes.

  


“Agreed.” He quipped, tossing the glass into the air. While Valkyrie knew it may shatter on their heads, she ignored the danger and watched as it disappeared at some point during its descent. “What will you do now?” She dragged her eyes lazily over to find his head turned toward her, tired emerald gaze lingering. 

  


“I suppose I’ll remain here.” She shrugged.

  


“As a Valkyrie?” 

  


“Asgard needs reassurance.” Valkyrie stood and hopped off the crate, unceremoniously staggering toward the door. “I’m no hero, but maybe I can be something else for the time being.” The people needed hope. They needed their king. Thor would undoubtedly submerge himself in the wellbeing of his people, so she would watch his back. It was the least she could do. “And you, Lackey? Technically, you’re the heir to the throne now. Will you be sticking around?” 

  


The prince sat up with a yawn and drew up his knees to rest his arms across them. “Time will tell.” He answered simply, obviously not willing to discuss it further. With slow and deliberate movements, he finally joined her at the door, swaying slightly on his feet. 

  


Valkyrie stifled a laugh and reached to steady him, hand squeezing his shoulder ever so slightly. “Easy, highness. I’d hate to have to drag you to your quarters.” He angled his head, brow drawn together, to stare at her hand as if it were made of gold. It was the same expression he bore when he had the realization that she was a Valkyrie; awe and excitement. A familiar heat began to coil in her belly, but she quickly extinguished it, releasing his arm.  _ ‘Not him.’ _ Her mind ordered.

  


Loki’s gaze followed the retreat of her hand and traveled up to her chocolate orbs. Valkyrie shivered, hoping it went unnoticed. “Or yours.” He said quietly. He took an unsteady step towards her and reached toward her, fingering one of the clasps on her shoulder.

  


“What?” She hadn’t thought to speak, actually. She would blame bottle later.

  


“Drag me back to  _ your _ chambers.” Loki whispered huskily, taking another step forward. He was dipped his head down toward her when she finally thought to react. 

  


Two not-so-fluid motions had the trickster god pinned to the wall by her palm to his chest and her dagger to his throat. Valkyrie was breathing heavily, but not from exertion, she knew. She couldn’t think straight, and damn him, he was watching her in his calm, collected arrogance. “Watch yourself, trickster.” She tried for threatening but it came out a shaky whisper. 

  


Loki said nothing, his head tilted back slightly by the steel at his adam’s apple. She watched the bob of the thing as he swallowed, the slightest trickle of blood escaping under the pressure of her blade. Her eyes roamed up to settle on his lips, always a bit more pale than average. His mouth was open slightly, breath escaping in shallow pants. When his tongue darted out to wet his lips, she dove forward before she could stop herself. He tasted strangely of mint and liquor, a pleasant poison she never knew she yearned to indulge. He never hesitated to return her vitality, his mouth eagerly moving against hers while his tongue explored and dominated. She was vaguely aware of her dagger still pressing into his throat even as she reached behind his head to tangle her free hand in his dark tresses, pulling him deeper into their frenzied liplock. 

  


Valkyrie felt him bare his teeth in hiss against her mouth as the cold steel bit into his skin. She shivered, delighting in the reaction. “What’s wrong,  _ highness _ ?” She nipped at his bottom lip, feeling that heat began to pool in her belly when he growled in response. He looked absolutely feral as she pulled away and it was intoxicating to the warrioress. Without warning, he sprung forward and grabbed her arms, pinning her to the wall with the dagger still at his throat. She had cut him, but even as she glanced worriedly to the wound, the bleeding was slowing as his accelerated healing began to flare to life. Pity there would be no scar for her to boast of later. Her eyes traveling back up to his as he used a knee to drive her legs apart, none too gently.

  


“Do you plan to keep me at knifepoint forever?” He whispered, dipping his head to drag his tongue across her pulse. As if on cue, her grip slackened and the dagger fell to the cold floor, Loki kicking it away as he closed the small distance that had remained between them. The young god began to tug at Valkyrie’s armor, desperately wanting to see what lay beneath. “You are  _ far _ too clothed.”

  


“And you are far too drunk.” She pushed him back and worked at the clasps on her breast plate. Her upper armor removed down to the soft top, she began working at her lower half. Val looked up as she removed her shin guards, her breath stuttering as Loki lifted his tunic over his head. She had always pictured thin and lanky, but the princling had been hiding a very nice, whipcord lean body underneath all that armor. It was achingly hard to look away. She was down to her undergarments while his black pants still sat low on his narrow hips. Now,  _ he  _ was far too clothed. Valkyrie licked her suddenly dry lips. “Take them off.”

  


Loki narrowed his eyes and staggered a bit as he reached for the waistband of his pants. He stood there for several moments, thumbs dipping below the fabric at each hip. And then he smirked. The little bastard was teasing her. She was too hot, too bothered, and too  _ drunk _ for his shenanigans. He was lucky she was even giving him the time of day! She had meant to stomp toward him but ended up stumbling, her fall broken by his hands on her ribs. He held fast as she straightened, but then grabbed the fabric beneath his palms and began to tug it upward and over her head. Val was by no means shy, and the way he looked at her in that moment, dragged his tongue across his lips, and heaved a shaky breath, made her want to undress for him again and again. What was he  _ doing _ to her? 

  


“Do you want to touch me?”

  


“And if I do?” He was biting his lip, which only fueled her. Now it was her turn to dip her thumbs into the waistline of her underthings, pulling them down to pool at her feet as he watched. 

  


“Then by all means, your highness.” 

  


Loki practically crushed her against the wall, hooking his hands just below her bottom to lift her to his waist. His mouth was crushed against hers, more aggressively than the first kiss. Val locked her ankles at the small of his back, her fingers digging into his scalp to yank his head back and expose his throat. He groaned when she kissed his pulse and rolled his hips, grinding his obvious want for her against her core. Angling her knees outward, she reached for his pants, dragging them down his narrow hips. 

  


No sweet words. No warnings. No declarations. He just entered her, roughly, and they both moaned at the sensation. She knew how long it had been since she had lain with a man and wondered how long Loki had been without a female lover. He didn't have to tell her of his sexual preferences (or lack thereof). She knew he had bedded the Grandmaster. It was the only way a stranger could have so quickly gained access to the eccentric man's innermost circle of companions. It mattered not to her, in the slightest. The feeling alone, the stretch and fullness, was nearly enough to topple her over the edge and he hadn't even moved yet. 

  


“Come on, Lackey.” She bit his earlobe and rocked her hips, biting back her own groan. “I don't want the prince.” She was licking her lips when he pulled his head back to regard her, eyes dark and wanting. “Fuck me like a god.”

  


Val bit her lip as he slammed into her, slow and deliberate at first, but soon her back was slamming against the wall with bruising force while she clawed for purchase at his shoulders. She finally latched onto the back of his neck, pulling him forward to melt her body against his, mouths crashing together. The pace he had set was brutal. She could already feel her climax building and coiling, tingling from her core to her the tips of her toes. 

  


“Mmmm, that’s... _ fuck _ !” She panted, laying her head back against the wall. Loki took advantage of her exposed throat, dragging his tongue from her collarbone to her chin, delighted in the fullbody shiver it caused. She was matching his rhythm, snapping her hips against his thrusts; chasing her pleasure. 

  


She was close.

  


So, naturally, he stilled and pulled them away from the wall, ignoring her whine of protest. Drunk or not, he would ensure she was sated by the night’s end, but that required patience.

  


And Loki was a very patient man.

  


The trickster deposited her on the crate on which he had previously been perched, splaying a hand between her breasts to push her onto her back. Still joined, he stood still between her thighs with his head tilted. The Valkyrie was truly a beauty, he noted. He had never taken the time to appreciate her curves, usually preoccupied with their sarcastic exchanges. She was an exceptional creature.

  


A wiggle of her hips brought him back to her. He began to drag his fingers down her sternum, circling his index finger around her naval before allowing his thumb to press down where she need it the most. Val arched off the crate, her small hands clutching and kneading her own breasts as she writhed. He began to rub the little bundle of nerves as he found a slower rhythm, content with delaying the inevitable for as long as possible if it meant that he could watch her come undone over and over.

  


“Right...right there... “ She breathed and he obliged, rolling his hips and massaging her. “Fuck... _ fuck!”  _ He was bringing her to the edge again. A little closer this time, he thought. His thrusts came a little faster and he found himself biting his lip to keep from climaxing himself as her walls began to tighten around him. Just as her breath hitched, he stilled. “What...what the  _ fuck _ are you doing?” She sat up quickly and attempted to push him away. She would mount him like her personal steed and bring herself to release if he was going to continue to tease her. But...Loki held firm, smirking at the frustrated warrioress. 

  


“Delayed gratification.” He whispered huskily, brushing her lips with his. “I want this just as badly,” as if to emphasize, he ground his hips against her, “and it will be worth the wait.” He purred, rubbing his thumbs over her hardened nipples. Val pressed herself against him again, taking his lips and allowed her hands to explore his skin, her palms coming to rest on his muscular ass. 

  


“You’d better hope so.” She wheezed, giving a squeeze to that glorious posterior before she allowed herself to explore the taut muscles of his stomach. She felt his skin twitch under her touch and nearly pouted when he picked her up again, this time depositing her onto the cold floor. “That’s cold, you bastard.”

  


“Shut up.” He sat back on his knees and pulled her hips upward toward his thighs, leaving only her upper back on the floor. In a display of strength that nearly had her spasming then and there, he lifted her hips up and nearly pulled out, only to slam her back down and spear right into the spot that was making her toes curl. Her breath caught with every upward thrust of his hips. She felt like she would come apart, split right in two. “ _ Fuck, _ ” Loki hissed, almost breathlessly. Such filth from the lips of the prince had her pushing up on her arms to snap her hips against him, matching his rhythm. He was sweating now, muscles tense and hands shaking as his fingers dug into her skin.

  


It wasn’t long before she was on fire, tingling deep inside. “Don’t...you  _ dare _ , Lackey.” She warned, a string of whimpers following as she felt the beginnings of her orgasm ripple through her. He didn’t answer, only succeeding in moaning as he began to follow her over the edge. When he didn’t pull away, her world exploded into stars and colors, a sudden warmness filling her. She was only vaguely aware of Loki’s strained cry. They were both moving together, riding each other through the waves of bliss before anchoring one another as they fell into the numbness that followed. 

  


Loki allowed his arms to fall limply to his sides, remaining on his knees. Valkyrie slid from his lap, instantly missing the warmth. The tricksters looked up at her tiredly, eyes only half open as he struggled to his feet, pulling his pants over his hips. He watched her without a word as she gathered her armor, putting on her underclothes and shirt.

  


“Well, that was fun.” She panted. He was smirking at her, but saying nothing. “Never happened, understood?”

  


“As you wish.” He nodded.

  


“Yea...Uhh, thanks?“ She scrambled out of the room, content but bewildered, not sparing another glance as she left him standing in a sea of empty bottles. She had just slept with the crowned prince of Asgard. Thor’s brother. The god of mischief. And she  _ enjoyed _ it. “I need a drink.”

  



End file.
